


Tell Me

by silveryogis



Category: Free!
Genre: Angry Sex, Angry Sex That Is Also Slightly Fluffy at the End, Boyfriends, Established Relationship, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 19:53:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveryogis/pseuds/silveryogis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin gets frustrated really easily, especially during times like these.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick little smutfic originally from my tumblr, weeeee

Rin can’t figure out a single damn thing about Haruka.

He keeps telling himself that it doesn’t even matter anymore, because it _doesn’t_ , but there’s still something so unsettling about the stillness of his eyes. Rin doesn’t know if that’s because he expects a challenge or because he wants one, but he’s sick of being the one who fights. He thinks.

He grabs one of of Haru’s knees and throws it over his shoulder, pushing forward against him. Haru tips his head back, his muscles sliding beautifully under his skin. Fingers drag over Rin’s shoulderblades, and those eyes flick behind pale eyelids. Rin grits his teeth. He’s frustrated. He’s _always_ frustrated.

“You ready?” he asks in a low grunt, moving his fingers as gently as his own frustration will allow. Haru answers him by letting out a slow, shaky breath. Yeah, he’s ready. He feels ready anyway, with the way he keeps squirming down on Rin’s fingers, with that flush high on his cheeks. And if he’s _not_ ready—well fuck, he should have said something.

Haru’s always been expressive, but not in the way Rin understands. Rin knows that he misses most of what Haru tries to tell him, because he’s always looking for the wrong clues—at least, that’s what Makoto keeps telling him. _Haru doesn’t make sense because you’re not paying attention to the right things._ But Rin doesn’t get that—he’s always paid attention to everything Haru does. The way he moves in water. The way he pushes off hard from the wall, the way he arches his back and presses his open mouth to Rin’s shoulder.

Rin pushes his cock in, bracing himself against Haruka’s shoulders. Haru hisses a breath in, and circles his arms around Rin’s back. Tangles his legs around his waist. Rin licks his tongue over his teeth, and starts to move, still waiting for the sign that the person he’s fucking is enjoying it. He wishes he’d fucking _say_ something.

But he still doesn’t get anything. So he starts to move faster, the heat of it already starting to overwhelm him. He shouldn’t get angry. He _shouldn’t._

He does anyway. “Does it feel good or not?” Rin demands, digging his fingernails into Haru’s skin. Into his beautiful skin, Haru is _beautiful_ , especially like this. 

He’s beautiful when he’s his.

“Keep going,” Haru finally answers, his voice a hoarse, strong thing. 

“ _Does it fucking feel good?”_

Haru groans. Rin grabs his hips and shoves them up, trying to get a better angle on him. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t _get_ this boy, the one who’ll sit in the bathtub until his fingerpads look like raisins, and who will nuzzle his face into his neck. 

All he knows is that he loves the way Haru makes him feel, inside and out. He loves the heat of his skin. He loves the warmth of his mouth, the stupid softness of his hair. He loves the grace of his hips as they buck against his. He loves the sweat on his chest, the salt on his skin.

He will not tell him he loves him until Haru does. 

“Tell me _,_ ” he repeats angrily, fucking into him faster. “Tell me or I’m gonna stop, and fucking _leave you here_.”

The only response he gets is a mouth against his. It’s soft and open, almost _lazy_ , even though Rin is fucking him harder than he ever has. Rin doesn’t know if he hates that or if he loves that. _But he hates that he can’t tell._

“Fuck,” he hisses into Haru’s mouth, knowing he’s reaching the end of his line. He bites at his lips and urges him to bite back, because all he wants is to know that Haru’s as angry as he is. That’s he’s as confused as he is, that this makes as little sense to him as it does to Rin. That’s all he wants.

That, and he wants to fuck him until he’s a mess. Until they’re both messes, panting and collapsed on each other. He wants to lay there for thirty seconds, and then he wants Haru to turn him onto his back and demand his turn. He wants Haru’s teeth scraping over his jaw and he wants his cock. He wants to _feel_ him. 

_Everywhere._

“Harder,” Haru urges against his mouth, and Rin’s eyes widen. Harder, he can do that. He can give that to him, he can give him everything he wants. Rin buries his face in Haru’s neck, because suddenly he feels vulnerable and he’s losing control—he’s fucking him harder like Haru wants, and everything is spinning and _fuck,_ he’s gonna—

He comes just a split second before Haru does. He doesn’t believe any of that bullshit about coming being beautiful—because it’s not, it’s just fucking _hot._ That’s it. Haru shudders underneath him, and Rin bites into his shoulder, holding onto him. 

“How—” Rin pants, “—how was that?”

Haru lays there for a second, just breathing. Rin hasn’t even pulled out yet. Haru doesn’t answer, so Rin scowls and removes his face from his neck. Looks at him. Scowls.

“Are you gonna fucking answer me, or—”

Haru flicks him in the nose.

“It was good, Rin,” he tells him, his voice quiet, calm. “Stop worrying so much. You’re good.”

He calms down a bit at that, and settles back down on his chest, the rising and falling helping to calm him down. He’s tired. He always gets dead tired after sex. Tired, and hungry.

“You’re good too,” he mumbles against him, and he can feel Haru’s fingers dragging slowly through his hair. 

“Come on,” Haru says. “It’s late.”

Rin picks his head up. “Are you kicking me out?”

And Haru just meets him with that even, calm look. _How can he be so calm after sex like that?_ “No. Sleep with me.”

For a second, all Rin can do is blink at him. No, he doesn’t get Haruka at all. How he’s so reserved but straightforward, how everything he says makes too much sense. Rin thinks that he’s probably seen Haru break before, but he was probably too busy breaking himself to notice.

That sort of makes him feel like a piece of shit, so he curls his fingers through his and tells him he’ll stay. Haru gives him a little smile. They peel themselves away from each other and off the couch, only to find themselves wrapped around in each other just a few moments later, tangled in Haru’s sheets. 

And he likes that. There’s no pressure of winning, there’s no pressure of coming out on top. Even with sex, he feels that. But not with this.

With this, he can lay his head down next to his and fall asleep, thinking about nothing but the residual soreness of his thighs and the quiet hum in his chest.


End file.
